Dave SmithWhite

(270552 / Sydney)

A Song of Gilgamesh


Gods in the distance, gods from beyond.
Gods of the chosen, the meek and the fond.
The gods of our fathers that keep us in bonds;
All gods are welcome in old Babylon!

A patient hand, no modern scrawl,
But raised in stone by pick and awl.
The stele stands, proud and tall,
And tells my history.

Gods swathed in garlands of sweet perfumed fronds.
Hurling ball lightning or just waving wands.
The earth as our mother must always respond,
All gods are welcome in old Babylon!

An ancient land has seen it all.
Emergent man, building walls.
Enclosing hearth he soon recalls,
The invention of the city.

A haven from the dark;
The place was called Uruk,
And I, the Golden God was sitting pretty.
The streets were clean and bright,
A beacon in the night,
For the men that turned the sod,
Controlled the kitty.

As ancient sea may rise and fall,
Or flood the earth with choking gall.
The afterbirth in which we trawl,
Gives up our destiny.

Gods that are truant, and gods that abscond.
Gods as bad ducklings that turn into swans.
Gods and their sucklings and all carry on...
All gods are welcome in old Babylon!

An ancient land has seen it all.
The raging storm and jealous squall.
The tribal bands of bluff and brawl.
The daub of vanity.

The place was called Uruk.
My ship of state, an ark;
The pilot plots his course and manifest.
The choice was clear and stark,
That here I'd make my mark,
And be the famous Captain Gilgamesh.

Gods of the present, and gods of the past.
Gods of the peasant who toils to the last.
Gods of the spirit, gods of the flesh.
All gods defer to the great Gilgamesh!

An ancient land has seen it all.
The mind of man, great and small.
His monuments to death appall,
The student of graffiti.

An ancient land has seen before,
A rival's plan that led to war;
That stains the sand with blood and gore,
But not one shred of pity.

Gods in the distance, gods from beyond.
Compete for believers and mould their icons.
Gods in all aspects, the whole pantheon.
All gods are welcome in old Babylon!

Gods of the mountain, and gods of the wood.
Gods who do evil and gods who do good.
Gods that protect us in our sheltered crèche;
All gods defer to the great Gilgamesh!

Submitted: Sunday, September 11, 2011
Edited: Friday, July 27, 2012


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Comments about this poem (A Song of Gilgamesh by Dave SmithWhite )

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  • Zahra Shariat (4/7/2014 6:43:00 AM)

    oh, It 's a worthy poem, thank you
    God of Poem, Goddess of muse
    sailed away ? river of blues (Report) Reply

  • David SmithWhite (9/23/2011 3:55:00 AM)

    Thanks Dave!

    It's always nice to receive positive feedback. Sometimes I feel I'm writing in a vacuum, so it's gratifying to find that someone actually likes what I do,

    Best Wishes

    David Smith-White (Report) Reply

Read all 3 comments »

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